Harry's Way
by Firesword
Summary: Slash. One-shot. Harry loves the Potions Master and although things are a bit awkward at first, they are happy in the end.


**Fic Title:** Harry's Way  
**Author:** Firesword  
**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR and so on.  
**Summary:** Harry loves the Potions Master and although things are a bit awkward at first, they are happy in the end.  
**Genre:** Slash, Romance, a bit of angst, a bit of adventure  
**Warnings:** HP/SS, one-shot, written before HBP, **OOC**, fluff, and un-beta'd.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes:** Finally, after a week or so, it is done. I also just realized that my dashes weren't working... I hope I've corrected most of them.

* * *

Harry's Way  
by Firesword

Harry knew that what he was going to do was wrong, but he could not change the way his heart felt about the situation. Just like the way he could not do anything but chuckle every time Ron turned red in the face when Hermione gave him that very special smile - a mix of aggravation and amusement and affection. Harry's stomach tightened as he remembered the time when his opinions about Snape altered. In his sixth year, he and the Potions Master had agreed to an uneasy truce, because it had been important for him to control his emotions, especially his anger. Harry knew that Snape had been incredibly patient with him, although most would not know it with the acerbic comments and harsh words the wizard spouted.

The tower clock struck eight - the time he was supposed to report to Snape when it was time for Occlumency practice. However, it was Saturday. He rarely practiced Occlumency with Snape on weekends. It was one of the many compromises the older wizard allowed him.

When he climbed down the staircase, there were no Slytherins around. He swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat and stood nervously before the door to Snape's office. He knocked on it briefly.

"Come in," a voice slightly muffled by the barrier announced and the door opened to admit Harry in.

Harry entered. Snape was behind his desk, marking essays. The professor looked up at the sound of the door closing, and a frown encompassed his face.

"Potter."

Harry calmly strode toward the desk.

"Why are you here?"

He did not reply but continued to walk, until he loomed over Snape.

"What do you want?" Snape snapped.

Anger in the pair of jet-black eyes flickered and changed into astonishment, before settling on stunned. Harry had bent forward over the desk, mindful of the hundred little things that covered the Potions Master's table, and before the older wizard could react, one of Harry's hands had cradled the back of Snape's neck. He could see the question in his teacher's eyes but instead of answering, Harry closed his and pressed his lips against Snape's dry ones.

His heart raced at the knowledge that he did it. Harry licked Snape's lower lip gently, before doing the same to the upper one. When Snape did not respond, but he did not push Harry away either, Harry withdrew slightly to give the older man some space before kissing those lips again. He did it, several times, and at his sixth attempt, Snape's lips parted.

Harry smiled inwardly and allowed his tongue to slip into the willing mouth. He shivered as Snape's tongue came to push against his, although rather experimentally. Desire unfurled from inside him and he unconsciously tightened his grip on the Potions Master's neck. They kissed experimentally for about two minutes before Harry decided to withdraw completely. He straightened his back and gazed penetratingly into Snape's obsidian eyes. For some reason, Snape's hesitant response comforted him. Now he knew that deep down, underneath the facade of an implacable Potions Master and an ex-Voldemort follower, there was a human in Snape. A Snape who could feel as well.

He smiled faintly before turning away. Then he exited out of the classroom. When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, he sent a prayer of thanks to heaven for not being punished with detention, or worse.

"And where have you been?" Hermione asked him in a voice that reminded him of Ron's mother.

"Here and there," he replied roguishly. Hermione looked at him suspiciously and he felt his cheeks starting to burn. The bushy-haired girl was staring intently at his lips.

"Well ... come on and let's start on Transfiguration revision. Ron's already waiting upstairs."

"Yes, madam," Harry responded with a straight face. Hermione slapped his shoulder gently with the book she held in her hand.

**oOooOo**

It was cold and freezing. Harry pulled his jacket closer to his body as he went down the staircase. It had been six weeks since he had first kissed Snape. A smile tugged gently at his lips as he remembered the way the older wizard looked at him with puzzlement the day after. Although Harry would have liked giving kisses to Snape every day, he decided to do it unpredictably. It also would not do if Hermione became too suspicious. As it was, Harry had a bit of difficulty escaping from another peer-tutoring session.

Finally, he stood before Snape's office and knocked on the barrier gently.

"Come in."

Harry entered the office the moment the door opened and looked around for Snape. His eyes flared in surprise to find that the Potions Master was not wearing his customary robes. Had the older man known he was coming? Snape had not turned around to see him - the professor was intent on rearranging his potion ingredients. Harry studied the other wizard and smiled in appreciation. His eyes drank in the lean figure covered in a simple gray tunic, and a pair of dark trousers. For some reason, Harry's eyes became fixated on Snape's lower back.

"Sir?" Harry called.

"What is it?"

Harry detected a note of exasperation and with an amused smile in place, he gazed up at Snape, who had glanced over his shoulder.

"Potter..."

Harry did not grin, although he really wanted to, impishly. The expression on the Potions Master's face was priceless as the latter came to the realization that this might be a repeat of that scene several weeks ago. He continued to watch the obsidian-eyed wizard, and Snape fully turned his body to face him.

"What do you want?" Snape grated.

The smile faded from Harry's face and he stared back at Snape, not answering the wizard's question. He simply stood and waited. And waited. And then...

The Potions Master stepped forward hesitantly. Only then did Harry move. He raised his arm and snaked it around Snape's waist. He saw the older man blush at the contact and tilted his head to one side.

"Snape," Harry called softly, and then licked his lips. Pale cheeks that had not seen sunlight for some time reddened vividly. Harry shivered as Snape leaned down, and kissed him. Tentatively. Awkwardly. Pleasantly. His knees trembled but Snape's hands held him up, and a groan escaped from his lips as the older wizard pressed against his body. Harry licked Snape's exploring tongue several times before pulling his face away.

"What do you want?" Snape asked softly, and Harry glowed with pleasure as the man rubbed his swollen lips with an orange-scented thumb. "What are you doing?"

"I..." Harry cleared his throat nervously. "I-I just want to show you how I feel."

Snape raised an eyebrow elegantly. "About?" the wizard murmured.

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "About you, obviously." Then his ears felt extremely hot. "I ... I'm not good with words..."

"All action and no talk?" Snape still spoke to him in that, odd, breathy voice.

"I..." However, his voice trailed away when Snape pulled him into a comforting embrace. Harry closed his eyes and contented himself with the warmth that radiated from Snape's body and the strength in those arms that wrapped about him.

The sound of a bell chiming broke through his daze and he sighed. Snape let him go slowly, and Harry stood on his toes to kiss a pale cheek. "I have to go before Hermione forces Crookshanks to track me down." He gazed up into the pair of beetle-black eyes. Snape nodded, and Harry left, feeling somewhat exhilarated and energized.

**oOooOo**

It was just right after the new year. Harry had been napping while Ron, Hermione, and some of his housemates were playing something when a strangled scream escaped from his throat. His friends stopped what they were doing and immediately went to his bed. Ron and Hermione were the first to reach out and shake him awake.

His head hurt and made worse by the shaking of his friends. "Stop," he croaked. "I'm awake. Don't shake anymore..." Harry felt his friends withdrawing and gave him some space to breathe. He spent several minutes watching the underside of his eyelids while doing a breathing exercise. The tension in his neck and shoulder muscles decreased, and so did the throbbing on his forehead. As he came to the last of step of the breathing exercise, he exhaled loudly. Then he slowly sat up, bringing one hand to massage the back of his neck. His friends looked at him with worried faces.

"Just a bad dream," Harry said with a lopsided smile.

"But your scar hurt, didn't it?" Ron frowned.

"Yeah, but I don't know. I was not dreaming of V-You-Know-Who."

"Tell us," Hermione urged him in a quiet voice.

He propped his pillow against the headboard before leaning against it. He rubbed his forehead gently. "I don't know. The place was somewhat dark, and it smelled earthy ... and the scent of damp leaves was strong. I was lying on the ground and then something was pulling at my ankles." Harry's thick eyebrows furrowed into a heavy scowl. "Why in the hell was I scared?" he asked himself.

"You tell us," Ron snorted.

"There must be something, Harry. Think," Hermione persisted.

Harry pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Maybe ... there were Dementors. And I felt trapped; I couldn't get out. There was something..." his voice trailed off when an image flashed in his mind. His blood turned cold and his breath shortened.

"Harry." Hermione shook his arm slightly.

"Eyes. Dark red eyes. Something wanted to eat me..."

"Nagini?" one of his friends asked meekly.

However, he shook his head. "It felt huge. Dangerous." He got out of his bed and at his friends' inquiring looks he said, "I have to see Snape. He told me no matter how ridiculous my dreams are, he said that I should tell him straightaway."

"I thought you kept a journal on those kind of dreams," Ginny said with a surprised look.

"Snape is the journal. He knows that I forget to write things down sometimes."

"Oh."

"I'll see you guys later." Harry put on his trainers and hurriedly climbed down the spiraling stairs of Gryffindor dormitory.

As he walked down to the ground floor, students who prowled about gave him odd looks, but he ignored them. Except for Luna and a couple of Ravenclaws - he waved at them briefly before he descended the narrow staircase leading to the dungeons. Almost immediately upon reaching the landing, his shoulder bumped into Malfoy's.

"Watch where you're going!" Malfoy snapped.

Harry merely snorted and pressed on. He knocked on Snape's door twice and entered without waiting for the professor to invite him in. He should have been surprised that he could enter the office, but he was somewhat preoccupied with visions of his nightmare. The door closed behind him, but it was the loud click of a Locking Charm that made him turn.

His mouth opened to greet the Potions Master but he fell silent at Snape's piercing gaze. After several minutes, he could not withstand the contact and looked down at his shoes. Snape's robes made a faint rustle as the wizard moved, to stand before Harry. Arms then gathered him, and Harry willingly molded himself into Snape's body.

"I dreamt of something," he whispered.

"Did your scar hurt?" Snape asked quietly after a few seconds of silence. Harry nodded.

Harry's eyes were closed and as he was filled with a peculiar sense of tranquillity, just by being held by Snape, his right hand was unconsciously rubbing up and down Snape's spine.

"Tell me."

He trembled slightly as Snape's fingers ran through his hair. He pulled away so that he could look up at Snape. Unreadable black eyes trapped his emerald ones, and in that instant, what he could not express in words - in regards to his fears and his feelings for the older man - became understood.

"Is it real?" Harry asked and winced; he sounded like a small child.

"I do not know," Snape replied softly. The older wizard's eyes turned gentle. "You have to be careful. Always."

Harry's heart stopped beating for a while, as Snape leaned forward. At the same time, Harry lifted his face. When their lips met, his heart exploded into rhythm.

"Why?" Snape murmured against his lips. "Why, Harry?"

However, Harry did not know the answer. He shook his head. His dreamy expression quickly transformed into a distraught-looking one. Was it wrong for him to care? It must be, because Snape would not stop looking at him, as though measuring him. Pain stabbed through his heart and he paled. He wrenched his body away from Snape and fled, unconsciously breaking the simple ward as he exited from the room.

He did so blindly, not aware that someone had followed him. Curious eyes followed him as he burst into the Entrance Hall, but he was too distressed to care. His feet slowed when they took him to a balcony, somewhere in the Astronomy Tower. His legs buckled; his eyes watered with pain as his legs hit the stony floor. Harry leaned back and drew his legs up. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He wondered if he was in love with Snape at all. Should he lie to Snape? Could he? Could he just say to the wizard that his feelings were not real? Then why was he feeling so much pain?

"Foolish Gryffindor," a voice said harshly. Someone embraced him before he could open his eyes. "Do you think you can get away from me that easily, Harry? Foolish Gryffindor," Snape repeated.

"I just don't know why," Harry said in a small voice. "I don't know why."

Snape pushed him gently and gentle fingers cupped his face. Harry was astonished to find the professor smiling, although faintly. "I don't need to know the reason now. As long as what you are feeling are your own emotions and you're certain of it..."

Harry's cheeks reddened with embarrassment. As the Potions Master helped him up, his lips curved into a shy smile. Snape traced them with his finger and gave him a reproachful look.

"Do not stare at me so. I have certain things to maintain, and those things will fly out the window if someone happens to find a professor kissing his student in a..." Snape looked around with eyes that gleamed with mischief. "In a public place."

Harry managed a soft chuckle and at Snape's soft command, he followed the Potions Master back to the office.

**oOooOo**

NEWTs. The seventh years' major exams were finally over. Harry and his friends were hanging out in the Great Hall after their lunch, and as it was a Saturday, they were not wearing their students' attire.

Harry laughed as a piece of drawing paper eventually came into his hand. Dean, the artist who drew Flitwick standing on a table, blushed and swore furiously. "You forgot to draw his knees, Dean," Harry informed him, somehow managing not to choke on his words. He was still laughing.

"It's kind of stifling in here," Ginny piped up. "Let's go out to the courtyard."

The group of Gryffindors looked at each other before nodding in agreement. They clambered out of their seats and headed out of the Great Hall leisurely. Snape was conversing quietly with McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. Harry slowed and his breathing hitched as obsidian-colored eyes regarded him intently before they turned to focus on the Head of Gryffindor House.

No sooner had the group reached the courtyard, Harry heard someone shout frantically. The voice belonged to Dumbledore. Harry turned his head to find the Headmaster, frowning slightly in confusion. A shadow passed over him and he looked up instinctively. He gasped when the _thing_ fell on him and cried out in pain as something sharp dug in his sides.

"Harry!" People shouted his name, their voices laced with panic and alarm. Harry barely realized that the _thing_ had its talons closed around his body before he slipped into unconsciousness.

A few hours later, Harry was choking with fear. It was not a nightmare any longer. He was trapped in a hole of some sort, and there was a hungry creature waiting with him. In a rather dazzled state, he fumbled around for his wand, and found it a few seconds before something clawed at his arm.

"_Reducto_!" he shouted as alertness returned to him. The spell managed to knock the creature away from him, and gave him enough time to conjure his Patronus. However, his silver stag was useless against the winged and crazed beast. The glowing from his Patronus' form enabled Harry to see his opponent however. Harry cast several Repelling spells as well, and looked around for an exit. Then he looked up and found an opening. He actually intended to force magical ropes out of his wand, but his magic had a mind of its own.

A rope with a rather sticky end shot out of his wand and attached itself on the ceiling. He braced himself, but still, he was pulled up with great force. He realized that he was in a cave. There was a frustrated shriek and he looked down - the terrifying creature was trying to fly out of the hole, but the Repelling Charm Harry had set on it kept it at bay. He swung a bit, and estimated where he should land before muttering a Lacerating Spell at the rope itself. He fell to the ground with a rather, inexperienced but controlled tumble. Then he smelled them ... the odor of things that had long died.

"_Expecto patronum_!" he yelled, and this time, his silver stag charged about the 'ground' floor of the cave, and drove the Dementors out.

He ran after them, and his heart froze. Death Eaters. Voldemort. They were waiting for him.

"It is time, Potter. For our magic to decide which of us will survive," the Dark Lord spoke. "To decide who is the most powerful sorcerer."

A bloodcurdling scream shattered the somber silence, and as Harry turned, he saw the creature fly toward him. The Repelling Charm was still at work and forced it away from Harry. Crazed, and perhaps somewhat desperate for a meal, it turned on the nearest Death Eater. Then Harry felt a terrible sense of peace descending on him, and he felt ... odd. He knew what it was. Ron would have said that he looked as though he was resigned to meet the Maker.

Voldemort wasted no time. He did not play - he did not use any of the lesser spells. Harry managed to duck the first Cruciatus Curse, but the second one hit him as he rolled away. A scream escaped from his throat, as his mind burned and imaginary knives seemed to pierce him everywhere.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry's mind blanked and there was suddenly a bolt of crimson. The jet of green light hit it, and it was deflected. A heavy object landed on Harry's stomach and the Gryffindor wrapped his hand around it, then winced when he felt a sharp blade slicing into his palm. Hastily, he released the object and grabbed the hilt instead. Again and again, Voldemort uttered the Killing Curse. Some Harry ducked; some he deflected using Godric's sword. Then Harry was standing before Voldemort, paralyzed.

"And so it ends," Voldemort murmured. "The-Boy-Who-Lived will be no more. _Avada Kedavra_."

_Severus._ The name flashed in his mind and the sound of the Potions Master's voice filled his ears. Somehow, he managed to thrust his sword hand forward, and the blade of Godric's sword slid into the Dark Lord's heart easily. _Be gone_, the young wizard thought solemnly. Then Harry was thrown off as the force of the Killing Curse hit his body.

**oOooOo**

Harry blinked, and watched through the broken lens of his glasses. It was raining. Raindrops fell on him forcefully, doubling his physical pain. _Am I dying? Or am I already dead?_ Harry thought sorrowfully. However, the rain washed him, ridding him of the blood that had spattered on him and his own. The rain was cleansing him. The rain was cleansing the battle scene.

"Harry..."

He heard a strained voice.

"Harry..."

Then Snape's face was above him.

"Severus..."

"Harry ... where do you hurt?"

He did not hear Snape and started talking. He was going to die, wasn't he? He had to tell Snape his reasons before he had to leave. "I love you, Severus. I admire you and I respect you. When I'm with you, you make me think about, not about my destiny, but who I can become. You, of all people, did not try to force me into a shape, to become a ... soldier. You just help me grow up, and let me choose the path that I wish to tread. You make me feel human. You make me feel as though I have an identity after all. And I love you, just because." His eyes blurred. "I love you so much. So much that it hurts sometimes." He coughed - he had inadvertently swallowed rainwater. He expected his heart to stop beating and grow cold. He did not. The pain tripled.

"Do not leave me." Snape's harsh voice forced him to pay attention to his surroundings. The Potions Master had helped him up to a sitting position and was holding him gently, but possessively. "Not after ... you cannot leave me." The wizard's voice broke. "I ... l-l-love you. I love you. Even if you're the most annoying young wizard. Even if you don't have a head for directions. Even if you're so damned, impulsive and stubborn. What you gave me is priceless, Harry, and I-"

Snape crushed his lips against his, and Harry kissed the older man just as desperately. _I love you, Severus. I love you._ The words repeated in his mind over and over again.

**oOooOo**

Harry awoke to a room so silent he knew he couldn't be in the hospital wing. Then he realized that the room was not silent. No, not at all. He turned his head carefully and breathed quietly. He could hear someone else's breathing, and it was coming from the man sleeping beside him. Severus. "Severus."

At his call, the Potions Master stirred and black eyes slowly opened. "Harry..."

Then Harry gasped as his lover pushed him back and started to kiss him brutally. Amazingly, throughout the fervor, Severus did not bring pain to his injuries.

"Never again will you throw yourself in the face of danger," Severus growled between light nips on his lips. "I do not want you to get hurt any more. This is enough. You have fought battles for ten full-grown wizards. You will rest and-"

"Love me," Harry said quietly.

Severus stared blankly at him. "No, we can't. You're-" He stopped when Harry shook his head.

The young, emerald-eyed wizard smiled. "That was not what I meant, Severus. I mean, of course, yes, I want you to make love to me someday, but I doubt I can fully appreciate the attention right now." His smile quickly turned impish. "I know that my role is over. It's my time to rest - and I do deserve it - and I want someone to love me," Harry whispered the last words. "It's time for me to focus on my rather, stunted, emotional needs."

"You are loved," Severus whispered against his mouth. "I did not finish what I wanted to say the other day. What you gave me-"

"My heart. I gave you my heart."

Severus sighed. "Will you please let me finish?"

"Sorry."

"What you gave me, is priceless. I never expected anyone to ... harbor those kind of feelings for me." Harry's smile softened as he felt, rather than saw, the blush on Severus' cheeks. "It makes me feel special."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Severus. Because, you are indeed, special, to me." Harry reached out and caressed Severus' face. "I love you so much."

Severus lay on his side and Harry turned his body carefully. He watched his lover's face for a minute or so before licking his lips invitingly. Severus chuckled and Harry smiled inwardly as Severus gave in to his demands, to be kissed.

**THE END **


End file.
